[master p]Yo, what's up nigga, this the colonel, mp.But uh, fiend nigga, it's your muthafuckin time to shine.You gon mix this shit up with bun be and pimp c.U.g.k. and fiend? this straight for all the niggas in the hoodNiggas on the corner, every nigga in the penitentitary.Nigga, this busta muthafuckin free. this for all the realNiggas and bitches out there, ya heard me? no limit style.Told y'all muthafuckas ain't no limit.[bun b]You muthafucka, I don't feel where you comin fromI don't like your zone, bitch, your microphone bitchYour tone switch sound like you wanna dig your own ditchIt's my pleasure to bring the shovelYou been lookin for troubleSo me and see and fiend gon bust your bubble on the doubleHut one, hut two, march nigga, fire off that torch niggaStraighten it out like starch niggaWhen I'm parched nigga, take a sip of some keroseneMixed with promythosene, turn your block to a terror sceneShit you ain't never seenTwenty millimeter tank rounds eatin up everythingNowhere to run, hide, or back downI put my mack down, picked up my ass kickerCause it blast thicker, hose and get off in that ass quickerThe last nigga figured, he had a chanceTo make it to that chopper, shit in his pantsMake the murder man danceWe shine like clusters, to leave you in the dustCause we tryin, to get rid a all you hatersAnd you muthafuckin bustas[chorus:(1) fiend]Boy, we down south banginRollin with these hustlersTryin to get rid a you hatas and you bustas[chorus:(2) fiend] x 3Down south slanginRollin with these hustlersTryin to get rid a you hatas and you bustas[pimp c]I got the cocaine lady, white lady, by the keyI get them whole for ten, double up for seventeenTwo outta one, step on it to winThey essay's is my partna, mafia stamp on the endTwo block solid, each one worth oneI rock it up my seven and I chop it up with bunA pocket fulla stones, hollin bout a wrongSmokin, ridin dirty, got a chip up in my cellphoneKeep this shit pumpedGet to pop the trunkFeelin light headed off some california skunkAnd bitch I come from texas and love that shit to leanI'm down with dj screw and bitch it's u.g.k. and fiendAnd we ridin with some killas, niggas bout they dramaPimp like a wheelers, and bitches like pirahnasI'm sweet james jones, a pimp and a hustlerTryin to get rid a all you hatasAnd you muthafuckin pussy ass bustas[chorus:(2)] x 4[fiend]What's the sense of it all?Pimpin, powder, and pussy tryin to make penniesPayin off, so friendly to flip with my people give meIf any doubt, the south, in every show today, blown awayFrom the wrong way, I'm killin these niggas the jones wayLet the psalm say, he died as a hataSooner than later, shoulda pop em since the incubatorMy life is droppin heron, at the sharonLookin, death dead onKnowin I was dead wrongFrom the sad songs, have you been to my city?If you ain't got shitty, everything is far from prettyBut I'm one bad fucker that's always claimin tankNiggas know n.o., dank, and elevateMy rank, what you call it?Bustin out the expeditionFiend pimpin, blowin up corns coke and cat emissionsMy livin, resist the no limit and stashin a dusterServin the cluckers, poppin it undercoverWe gettin rid a bustas[chorus:(2)] x 6